ties of matter, or the powers which it possesses of affecting us in a particular manner. But is either of these qualities matter? Are all of them combined matter? Were we to say that color and form and divisibility, etc., are matter, or substance, would this assertion express the idea of which we are conscious when we reflect upon this subject? So far is this from the fact, that the assertion would seem to involve an absurdity. We always say of a material object, it is something divisible, solid, colored, etc.; plainly distinguishing, in our conceptions, the something in which the qualities reside from the qualities which reside in the something. We thus find ourselves possessed of the two ideas, essence and attribute, substance and quality. We know that there must be one, whenever we perceive the other. But where does this idea of substance come from? Surely neither from the senses nor from consciousness; yet we all have attained it. It must have originated in the mind itself. We perceive the quality. The mind affirms the existence of the substance, and affirms it not as a contingent, but as a necessary truth.

It is almost superfluous to remark, that we arrive at the same idea from consciousness. Consciousness testifies to the existence of mental energies. From this knowledge, the mind at once asserts the existence of an essence to which these energies pertain. Were there no mental energies, we could never become cognizant of a spiritual substance; but, having been cognizant of it, we know that it is a necessary condition to the existence of the energies of which we are

conscious.

2. These instances are sufficient to illustrate the nature of the cognitions which are suggested by the energies of the mind itself, when we contemplate a single object. Let us now suppose several objects, some of similar and others of

dissimilar qualities, to be present before us. Suppose them, for instance, cubes, pyramids, cylinders, etc.

If I observe them singly, each will furnish me with all the primary and suggested ideas to which I have just now referred. I observe several to be of one form. I compare their aggregate with unity, and there arises in my mind the idea of number. As soon as I have formed this notion, I find myself abstracting it from the cubes, and from every other object, and treat it as a conception by itself, capable of enlargement or diminution at my will. So readily does this conception separate itself from the objects which gave occasion to its existence, that, in the rudest conditions of society, men give names to the several ideas of number, and very soon form a symbolical language to represent them. Every one knows that his ideas of number were originally derived from the observation of a plurality of objects; and yet no one, thinking of ten, twenty, thirty, to say nothing of thousands and millions, ever associates these ideas with any actual existences. We always consider them as abstract ideas, yet ideas of the most fixed and determinate character. But these ideas are not objects of perception. We neither see nor feel nor taste number; yet perception occasions these ideas. We know number as soon as the occasions which suggest it present themselves.

In enumeration, we always proceed by unity. We repeat unity until we arrive at a certain aggregate, which we then consider as a unit. Thus, in our enumeration, we repeat unity, giving a different name to every increasing aggregate, until we arrive at ten. We then make this our unit, and add to it other similar units, until we arrive at a hundred; in the same manner, we make this our unit until we arrive at a thousand, then to a million, etc. Suppose, now, I carry on this process to any assignable limit, can I exhaust my idea of number? Suppose I proceed until my

powers of computation fail, have I yet proceeded so far that I cannot add to the sum millions upon millions? Can I conceive of any number so vast that I cannot add to it as many as I choose? We perceive this to be impossible. Here, again, we recognize the same idea which lately evolved from our notion of space. It is the idea of infinity. We see that it springs at once, by the operation of our minds, from every conception capable of giving occasion to it.

Again; we cannot observe a number of objects at the same time, without recognizing various relations which exist between them. I see two cubes possessing in every respect the same qualities. Hence arises the relation of identity of form, color, etc. Others possess different qualities; hence the relation of diversity. When the forms are precisely the same, or when they occupy exactly the same space, there arises relation of equality. When they occupy different measures of space, there arises the relation of inequality. These latter relations are specially used in all our reasonings in the mathematics. All our demonstrations in this science are designed to show that two quantities are either equal or unequal to each other.

Still further, I perceive that two or more objects are not in contact. Space intervenes between them, and we recognize the relation of distance. Each one has a definite relaHence arises the relation

tion in space to all the others. of place. Place always refers to the position which a body holds in respect to other bodies. Were there but one body in space, we could not from it form any notion of place. As soon as other bodies are perceived, and their relation to it recognized, we obtain this idea respecting it. Thus, I say this paper lies where it did ten minutes since. Here I refer to the table and the objects upon it, whose position in relation to the paper is the same as it was before, leaving

out of account altogether the fact that the table has moved with the diurnal and annual revolution of the earth. A man in a railroad car will say that he has not changed his place for half a day, when he knows that he has been moving at the rate of thirty or forty miles an hour.

Again; we perceive that, of several cubes, the first occupies a larger portion of space than the second, and the second a larger portion than the third. All of them are red, but the tinge of one is deeper than that of another. Hence arises the relation of degree. This idea is so universally recognized, that, in all languages, it is designated by a special form, entitled degrees of comparison.

But it is not necessary that I pursue this subject further. I think that every one must recognize in his own mind a power of originating such knowledges as these, as soon as the occasion presents itself. They are not ideas of perception or of consciousness, but ideas arising in the mind, by its own energies, as soon as we cognize the appropriate objects which occasion them. Having once obtained them, they immediately sever themselves from the objects which occasion them, and become ideas of simple intellection, which we use as abstract terms in all our reasonings.

REFERENCES.

Space-Locke, Book 2, chap. 13; Cousin, chap. 2; Reid, Essay 2, chap. 19.

Space and body not the same

chap. 2.

-

Locke, Book 2, chap. 13; Cousin,

Infinity from space-Locke, Book 2, chap. 13; Cousin, chap. 3; Reid, Essay 2, chap. 19.

Unity Locke, Book 2, chap. 7.

Substance and solidity - Locke, Book 2, chap. 4; Cousin, chap. 3.

Number

Locke, Book 2, chap. 16, 17; Cousin, chap. 3.

Relation Locke, Book 2, chap. 25.

Identity and Diversity — Locke, Book 2, chap. 27.

SECTION IV. SUGGESTED IDEAS OCCASIONED BY THE CONSIDERATION OF OBJECTS IN THE CONDITION OF

CHANGE.

EVERY one must be aware that motion, change, progress, and decay, are written upon everything within us, and upon everything without us. It is natural to suppose that a variety of suggestions, or intuitive cognitions, would be occasioned by the development of this universal law.

Our thoughts are in a condition of perpetual change. Thought succeeds thought; one conception follows another without a moment's cessation, at least, during our waking hours, from the commencement to the close of our present existence. The idea of incessant change is essential to our notion of life. Abolish it, and the result is universal death.

Destitute of memory, we should be unconscious of these changes, and cognizant only of the thought or emotion of the present moment. Endowed with memory, however, we become aware of the fact that the thought of which we are now conscious is not the thought of which we were conscious a few moments since; and that the thoughts of yesterday, or of boyhood, are very different from the thoughts of to-day.

Again, the cloud is dissi

The same knowledge is also derived from the acts of perception in connection with memory. We perceive a cloud overspreading the heavens. When last we looked upward all was clear; now all is lurid. pated, and all is sunshine. We arise in the morning, and light is gradually stealing over the heavens. Soon, the sun arises, and all nature is aroused to life. In a few hours it is mid-day, and animal and vegetable droop with the excessive heat. Soon, the sun declines; it sinks beneath the